Gretta Scacchi as Cassandra Austen looking down at Jane towards the end of Miss Austen Regrets — Cassandra is the silent continually-there and caring presence throughout these last letters

Dear friends and readers,

This week we are chronologically up to one of the few openly vulnerable and near despairing letters of Jane Austen, this the first and only one we have to her younger brother, Charles, telling him how very ill she has been, of the shock and dismay of the family when upon the death of the wealthy uncle, James Leigh-Perrot, they learned he had deliberately misled them to believe he would relieved their exigent needs by immediate legacies, sorrow over what was thought to be the hopeless case of Charles’s young daughter, Harriet with her “water on the brain,” and Jane’s inability to travel without a hired coach, due to her weak and pained state. The second has a claim to uniqueness too: this is the only letter we have to Jane Austen by a member of her family (the others are business letters, letters from the Rev Clarke): written a day after hers to Charles, Edward Cooper proves himself not to be the fatuous cant-filled evangelical implied by Austen in an earlier letter, but someone perceptive and brave enough to put down in print his sense of a double-dealing betrayal. And twenty days later Jane Austen’s will as dictated to Cassandra.

Cooper’s letter first appeared in Richard A. Austen-Leigh’s invaluable edition of the Austen Papers, published in 1940. He was a grandson of Austen’s nephew, James-Edward Austen-Leigh, who was responsible for the memoir, publication of Lady Susan and The Watsons; and like his grandfather dedicated to publishing and sharing with the public papers about the life and work of Jane Austen; with his uncle William Austen-Leigh (one of James-Edward’s sons), he produced the family biography, Jane Austen: her Life and Letters, and by himself other articles and notes. The papers contain letters by nearly all the near family members of Jane Austen, and by her cousins, people related by marriage, including Mr and Mrs Austen, Henry and Frank Austen, Thomas Leigh, letters by and to Warren Hastings, a series by Eliza de Feuillide to her cousin Philadelphia Walter, letters of Jane Leigh-Perrot to a cousin, James-Edward Austen-Leigh’s letters. They begin with the important biographical explanation by Jane’s father’s grandmother as to how she and all her children but the eldest were deprived of an inheritance and how she worked all her life to try to provide enough for her sons to become gentlemen. They end with Francis’s letters late in life to interested Americans conceding that Harville (and by extention Wentworth) contain aspects of his character. He recognizes himself in them. The letters and documents are set up as correspondences so you can read with understanding of what was said and what is replied. Essential context for Jane’s letters and what is known of her intimate life. They were reprinted by Thoemmes Press in 1990 with an introduction by David Gilson.

This is the letter before her will — as in the case of many women from the medieval period to the later 19th century (until 1870, the Married Women’s Property Act), it’s an informal letter signed by her — and co-signed. Most of such letters show a pathetic few belongings, cherished by the dying person, a tiny bequest. So here we have the bequest; after Jane died, Cassandra distributed Jane’s belongings and in lieu of the usual sheerly physical items, shared out writing by Jane.

Her letter to Charles tells of how sick she has been — unable to write “anything not absolutely necessary.” So that means she has not lost sufficient control of her consciousness to put together sentences. (I’ve seen that in cancer; the person cannot write at all, cannot understand what he or she reads.) Bilious attack is bile — she’s sick to her stomach, nausea, and it feels acidic. She’s had high fever.

But it is also a relapse — so she was this bad before. The news the uncle misled them and left everything to the stingy (kleptomaniac) corrosive-tongued aunt then hit her hard. Foolish she says, but she could not get over this important disappointment, understandably. She asked that Cassandra return from the funeral (so women did attend even if not at graveside). Mrs Austen, as ever phlegmatic on the outside, and, as people do often do, making excuses for that which hurt them (it’s an assertion the world is fair): oh he never expected his wife would outlive him.

No? he did make the will knowing the money was his.

Mrs Austen wishes her younger children had got something immediately — James got the vicarage, Edward adopted a rich man, and Frank doing very well with his prizes and working for private companies. But Charles in need and Jane with the small sums she’s made from her books.

Austen concedes the aunt is just now so miserable they are feeling more regard for her than they ever did before. To paraphrase Mr Bennet, not to worry, none of this would last, neither her affliction nor liking her more — and with good reason, especially James-Edward Austen-Leigh whose life she made a misery eventually by tyrannizing over him with threats of disinheritance. Now her immediate prostration makes them feel for her. Mrs L-P had lost her one companion and thorough friend.

Austen is not surprised at Harriet Palmer’s illness — well her older sister, dead in childbed, the infant dead, 4 children now to care for, one with a mysterious brain problem (perhaps autism of some sort now emerging), who would not be ill. Charles’s mother-in-law feeling better. Charles’s diaries show his real involvement. Apparently their cousin Cooke showed real kindness and affection — since this is not common, Austen rightly emphasizes this and wants to convey it. The Cookes are the same favored kindly Cookes of Bookham that we meet in Frances Burney d’Ablay’s life, and one of the few direct connections between FBA and Jane Austen. One might have expected some explicit talk by the Cookes about the Austens (including Jane and her novels) to enter FBA’s voluminous life-writing, but there is apparently no reference to Jane Austen at all. On the Cookes of Great Bookham, Jane’s two visits (1799, 1814), see Lucinda Brant, In Jane’s Visting Footsteps.

The rectory, demolished 1961

In the PS she remembers that Harriet, the sister-in-law has been asking to see her. Perhaps to be nice, as Harriet must know how sick her sister’s husband’s sister was, Austen says she can only come if a hackney coach is sent (that costs, this is not a group which keeps carriages). A moment of levity that connects to some private teasing — she hope Cassy takes care the coach is green. Was green a favorite color of Cassy?.

She realizes she didn’t use black-edged paper to signal their mourning for the uncle.

She ends the letter itself with a “God bless you all” — more emotional than usual — and that Charles should “conclude me to be going well if you hear nothing the contrary.” Meaning no news is good news — shall I paraphrase Mr Bennet again? no, just say often for the powerless the best news is not to hear anything from anyone for why would they be contacting you? most letters are after all about business. There’s a telling dialogue about letters and how when you pay people they will work for real and continually (otherwise not is implied) in Emma between John Knightley and Jane, but I digress …

Diane Reynolds responded:

Ellen has covered this letter well, and despite Austen’s attempts at humor–that Cassy must send a green hackney chariot for Jane should Jane be needed to visit, it is arguably more relentlessly dark than anything we have yet read. She is badly ill and her illness magnified by the “shock” of the uncle’s will, leaving the bulk of the money to the (nasty) aunt. The will has “brought on a relapse.” But my sense from the Le Faye notes is that the “younger Austen children” — that would include Jane, no (?), would inherit a 1000 pounds each should the aunt pre-decease them. Maybe some of the shock is the misery ofJane knowing she won’t live long enough to inherit–or am I entirely misreading this?

Jane tries to rouse herself to better cheer in the middle of the letter, speaking of being “better this morning” and “coddled,” mentioning her mother never had great expectations from the inheritance, but wished more for her younger children–and sooner. JA even expresses sympathy for the misery of the aunt.

As I think of the great importance in Regency England of inheritance, I think too of the new book, Capital by Piketty, that posits we are turning a corner in the US where inheritance will assume such importance–a time when people will inherit more than the average person can earn in a lifetime. The importance of this loss to the
Austens was great.

In the last part of the letter, JA is back to illnesses — Miss Palmer and Harriet. But she tries to end on a more cheerful note, with the joke about the green chariot–which also communicates how ill she is.

Edward Cooper’s letter is important because of the rarity of any letter to Jane Austen. That there is none other by any family member seems such an unexpected thorough-going absence it feels the result of an agreement, a plan. They all agreed to destroy whatever they had written to her — for surely some members of her family kept copies of what they had written. To us today it seems a lot of effort, but people did it; before computers when I was young people used carbon paper and thin tissue sheets to make typed and written copies. I also knew that ironically (and unfortunately) that Edward Cooper was someone who Jane Austen is down as to some extent despising, feeling he was somehow dull or ludicrous in his evangelical enthusiasm, or maybe it was that she wasn’t having any of it. He grated on her.

Now reading it in the light of all the letters we have, especially the most recent again we have an instance of Jane Austen maybe being wrong about people. Cooper seems not only intelligent but he appeals by his frankness; he is disappointed, he was led to believe he would be getting something. His letter confirms that the uncle was himself knowingly giving the wrong impression in order to make sure the family remained nice to him, grateful until he died. It’s interesting Cooper suggests he had reason to believe nonetheless he was “no great favorite” with the uncle; as far as we have documents (from James-Edward later and his daughter Mary), this might have been the aunt’s doing; it is just the sort of thing a Mrs Norris might do: sow discord to keep the uncle estranged from others and tied to her. Since we are not to speak ill of the dead Cooper turns round to say after he wants to think charitably of the uncle so if in thought or act the uncle did think unjustly of he, Cooper, he forgives the uncle. A bit absurd but no more than some of the contradictions on behalf of morality we find in other of the relatives’ letters (including Cassandra): when they get to heaven, they will understand one another.

Note though he does not want to write James, who as eldest son was one of the executors – thus could push things his own way and was to inherit after the aunt. (In the event James Austen predeceased Jane Leigh-Perrot.) He’s unwilling to write because he does feel uncomfortable in talking to someone who will be taking all the advantage of this title — so he foresees that James will somehow show off, not be tactful and asks that Jane ask her brother to lay aside this status. Also what is the requisite period of mourning? One black suit for his boys should be enough — he is thinking of the cost of mourning clothes, of dying the boys’ regular clothes.

The letter also shows that this man had no idea Jane was dying. Cassandra had told him both were unwell to explain why she Cassandra had no time to write. There is this strong tendency in this family to secrecy — as a girl Austen in her Juvenilia mocked this whispering secresy (especially one of her playlets), but by the time she was writing the novels it had been inculcated into her as thoroughly as any of George Austen’s children. In effect Edward Cooper has been lied to enough to fool him. There are no phones, no internet, no trains, no cars: it’s easy to fool people who are outside walking distance. To be fair, there is still a strong inhibition today against telling that someone is actually dying and when they have died, including cause of death in the obituary.

His tone would be quite different were he to know how ill his cousin, Jane, is. If you you look carefully you see the main evidence for Cooper’s dullness are quotations from Jane Austen — irritated by his overt perhaps proselytizing evangelicalism. The man was not a genius, but this is the letter of a frank person who is alive to the nuances of things around him and willing to articulate them (thus refreshing and giving us truths hard to find written down in the case of the Leigh-Perrots and now James).

St Michael’s Church, Hamstall Ridware, Staffordshire (recent photo)

Again Diane:

It reinforces how the blow of the inheritance going to Aunt LP reverberated through the family. People needed and expected that money. Rev. Edward sounds utterly stunned — and is reaching out in shock to a sympathetic party, which meant JA’s attitude, as well the expectations of she and her sister and mother, must have been known to him. I find it interesting that he wrote to her, even though he knew she was sick, rather than her mother or Cassandra. He evidently felt more assured that she would feel as he did. Obviously, this is also a way to avoid writing a letter to James he simply can’t bear to write — he seemingly can rely on Jane to be a tactful–or at least reliable — intermediate.

Given that this was a family that gives no sign of pie in the sky fantasies or wishful thinking, people truly were led to believe they would inherit, leading one to suspect a level of cruelty in this whole affair. We feel how far up the class ladder the lack of social safety net went–these gentry people really needed this money. This appears to have the shock the unexpected loss of a good job would have on a modern person–or perhaps the shock of the sudden closing down of a business that had employed more than one family member.

Sylvie Herbert as Madame Bigeon — showing real identification and interest — in the film she dines with the family, sits by Jane in front of their London fire (Miss Austen Regrets, 2008)

It does not seem out of place to reprint Jane Austen’s will here too — numbered as one of the letters in Deirdre LeFaye’s edition:

158. To Cassandra Austen
Sunday 27 April 1817

I Jane Austen of the Parish of Chawton do by this my last Will & Testament give and bequeath to my dearest Sister Cassandra Elizabeth every thing of which I may die possessed, or which may be hereafter due to me, subject to the payment of my Funeral Expences, & to a Legacy of £50. to my Brother Henry, & £50. to Mde Bigeon – -which I request may be paid as soon as convenient. And I appoint my said dear Sister the Executrix of this my last Will & Testament.

Jane Austen
April 27, 1817.
My Will.-
To Miss Austen

Jane Austen had a very bad day or night indeed, so harrowing they thought she was near death. Most comments are on the 50 pounds to Madame Bigeon, but we could equally wonder why Austen felt she owed Henry 50. She might have wanted to send this sum to Madame Bigeon to signal to Madame how grateful she felt towards Madame for her years of faithful friendly work for Henry and herself. We should remember that throughout Austen’s letters once she is in Bath we find she is friendly with servants, sometimes eats with them, takes books out of the library for them, treats them with respect, and then and in later years (at Godmersham for example), identifies herself with governesses in the great houses where she is a visitor.

Diana Birchall:

Solemn and moving. It is time. All to Cassandra, who will be Executrix (interesting that women, denied so much, could do that), except for legacies of fifty pounds to Henry (who needs it) and the same to Mme. Bigeon, his housekeeper.

7 Responses

My dearest Charles
Many thanks for your affectionate Letter. I was in your debt before, but I have really been too unwell the last fortnight to write anything that was not absolutely necessary. I have been suffering from a Bilious attack, attended with a good deal of fever. — A few days ago my complaint appeared removed, but I am ashamed to say that the shock of my Uncle’s Will brought on a relapse, & I was so ill on Friday & thought myself so likely to be worse that I could not but press for Cassandra’s returning with Frank after the Funeral last night, which she of course did, & either her return, or my having seen Mr Curtis, or my Disorder’s chusing to go away, have made me better this morning. I live upstairs however for the present & am coddled. I am the only one of the Legatees who has been so silly, but a weak Body must excuse weak Nerves. My Mother has borne the forgetfulness of her extremely well; — her expectations for herself were never beyond the extreme of moderation, & she thinks with you that my Uncle always looked forward to surviving her [the aunt, his wife]. — She desires her best Love & many thanks for your kind feelings; and heartily wishes that her younger Children had more, & all her Children something immediately. My Aunt felt the value of Cassandras company so fully, & was so very kind to her, & is poor Woman! so miserable at present (for her affliction has very much increased since the first) that we feel more regard for her than we ever did before. It is impossible to be surprised at Miss Palmer’s being ill, but we are truly sorry, & hope it may not continue. We congratulate you on Mrs Palmer’s recovery. — As for your poor little Harriet, I dare not be sanguine for her. Nothing can be kinder than Mrs Cooke’s enquiries after you & her, in all her Letters, & there was no standing her affectionate way of speaking of your Countenance, after her seeing you. — God bless you all. Conclude me to be going on well, if you hear nothing to the contrary. —
Yours Ever truely
JA.

Tell dear Harriet that whenever she wants me in her service again, she must send a Hackney Chariot all the way for me, for I am not strong enough to travel any other way, & I hope Cassy will take care that it is a green one. Ihave forgotten to take a proper-edged sheet of Paper.

I am anxious to hear both of yourself & of my Aunt, because of the solicitude and agitation of mind, which she must lately have felt, and of yourself, because I am sorry to hear from Cassandra, what I did not before know, that you have been unwell. I hope to receive a favourable account of you both.

You will probably be desirous of hearing my sentiments on the communication received from James of the disposal of my Uncles Property. There was probably no reason why I should have expected any distinguished notice in his Will: but I certainly never seriously anticipated the probability of being altogether excluded from it. And I must express to you that the circumstances of being thus disowned by him at last does hurt me a great deal, because I did entertain a sincere regard & esteem for him. I had reason to suppose I was no great Favourite with him; yet his manner towards me, whenever I happened to see him, was kind and friendly, & I never suspected him to harbour those unfavorable dispositions towards me of which he has left behind him so marked & convincing proof. If however in thought or in act he has done me any injustice, I feel that I do most cordially forgive him. I trust that for his own sake he did not go out of the world with any uncharitable feelings towards me, but that at least in his last indisposition (during which from the time that I heard of it I did not cease to pray for him daily & earnestly) he forgave even as he looked to be forgiven. And I hope, if it so please God, that through the merits of our common Redeemer, we shall hereafter meet in another world, where mis-apprehension, mis-judgement, & mis-representation will have no place.

I will thank you to take an opportunity of communicating this letter to James, as it will save me the trouble of repeating my sentiments on a subject which at present is rather a painful one to dwell on. Give also my love to him, & tell him though I sincerely wish him well, & even rejoice in any good which befalls himself or his family, yet I feel it would be an indelicacy to offer him under present circumstances my congratulations on the prospective advancement of his family -a feeling, in which if I may judge from his letter to me, he fully participates; & I hope whenever he may write to me again, he will lay aside the Executor-title & assume that of a friend & cousin, which will be far more pleasant & natural to both of us. Will you be kind enough to send us word, when you write, what is the period of mourning, as we would wish to do the same as you do.

As for the little boys, we conclude that one suit of black will be sufficient for them. Give my best love to my aunt: accept the same for yourself, & distribute a portion to all to whom a portion belongs, & believe me, Dear Jane, Your affectionate cousin, Ed. Cooper. [end of letter

I find it interesting that, according to the notes, this short will, written three months prior to her death, was unwitnessed, and so Cassandra had to go to court on September 10 with two witnesses to have it authenticated. Legally, I believe this means that Austen died intestate, which seems odd, given JA’s lifelong concern with money.

The two witness were John Palmer, described as “sometime Attorney General of Bermuda” and his daughter Harriet. They are described as in- laws, though at this point Harriet had not married James. I can understand why Cassandra asked John Palmer, a weighty individual with legal credentials, and perhaps it was most convenient and comfortable to bring along his daughter as a second witness.

I wonder that Austen, no fool, did not have the document witnessed, especially as she had three months to do so. She was ill, but we know from subsequent letters she wrote that she had periods of rallying and was certainly able to think clearly and rationally. Was the document the result a bad night or a bad spell and hence a desperate effort to make sure her money went where she wanted it to go? Was a later witnessed will somehow lost, forcing Cassandra to produce this one? Did Jane, after writing this will, hope she would recover, putting off the inevitable until too late? Did she not want people to know she was dying and so avoided the gossip a witnessed will would have invited?

Not surprisingly, Austen left her estate to Cassandra, excepting fifty pounds to Henry and fifty pounds to Madame Bigeon, listed in the index as Henry’s housekeeper. Given that Austen’s estate could not have been large, it’s interesting that she left a comparatively large sum to the housekeeper. It shows her notice and concern for women who needed money, but I wonder what service Bigeon rendered or what hold she had on Austen’s heart, that she especially left her a sum–or perhaps Austen was simply aware that Henry’s financial distress had left him owing Bigeon money or in some way distressed?

Austen’s will seems consistent with the person we have discovered her to be: close to Cassandra and Henry and concerned for other women. It is direct and to the point and without religious language.

I’m grateful to Diane –. I had not thought to read LeFaye’s annotations in the back. I too thought some very bad day or night had made the sisters despair.

On the will not being witnessed; I can only describe other wills by women I’ve seen very like this one: the same lacks: what they left and yes witnesses sometimes too. We have to remember women had no standing in law; they could own no property on their own if they were married, and if they had not married, they were often very poor. They might live well within a family, but personally what would they own if not left a legacy by someone?

Austen cared about money very much but as we have seen was a novice when it came to writing Crosy: the ms was gotten back by Henry and Frank (it’s said). She was intensely eager to publish First Impressions at last and probably had little on hand after publishing S&S, did not want to burden Henry again so sold her copyright. Then she followed Henry’s bad advice when Murray offered 450 and made very little on MP and Emma. These experiences were not likely to make her feel whatever she did would matter very much. It really took Frances Burney D’Arblay years to take up subscription lists to finally make some money from her writing — she was stung again and again anyway.

The guess Diane makes is one others have: that Jane realizing that Henry was desperate himself was trying to make up for him what he had not paid Mme Bigeon. Austen remembers Mme and her daughter in her letters more than once.

I’ll offer the idea that making a will is part of an impliictly religious point of view, a point of view that wants to assert some meaning or shape to life, and from a secular moral standpoint, middle class; you are supposed to take responsibility, and gain status or respectability by making a will. You thought enough of yourself to do this.

“As well as Austen and Mrs Ruth Milles, (both d. 1817), I know of a naval officer called Ewell Tritton (d.1818) and a widow called Ann Inglefield (d.1836) whose unwitnessed holograph wills also received probate after two persons came to court and swore on oath they knew the testator’s handwriting.

This is from a relatively small sample of wills of the period I’ve seen – fewer than twenty – so I think the procedure may have been unusual but not all that rare.

In the probate court records the subsections detailing who validates a holograph will are always headed in big letters ‘APPEARED PERSONALLY…’ So evidently you couldn’t just send a letter saying you thought the will was good, you had to show up in court, in person, examine the actual will and swear an oath that it was in the testator’s handwriting.

Is it possible JA wrote the holograph as a draft, a temporary expedient, expecting someone to take it to a lawyer to have it formally drawn up into a legal document, which would be brought back for her to sign and others to witness? And if that never happened it may be because the chief beneficiary, Cassandra, never pushed it. I know of one case where a desperately sick person who offered several times to make a will was lovingly discouraged with ‘No, no, forget it! Leave it till you feel a little better…’

Consider this from The Watsons too:

By Heaven! a woman should never be trusted with money.’ An extract:

(Emma Watson’s brother greets her on her unexpected return to her birth family. She had been semi-adopted by an uncle and aunt, but the uncle had died leaving all his money unconditionally to his wife, Emma’s aunt – who promptly remarried. The new husband doesn’t want Emma around.)

“So, Emma,” said (her brother), “you are quite a stranger at home. It must seem odd enough for you to be here. A pretty piece of work your Aunt Turner has made of it! By Heaven! a woman should never be trusted with money. I always said she ought to have settled something on you, as soon as her husband died.”

“But that would have been trusting me with money,” replied Emma; “and I am a woman too.”

“It might have been secured to your future use, without your having any power over it now.’

Rita Lamb’s comments under the above header are relevant and sensible. The way the will for Jane Austen was done was not unusual; all the mores of the time, invented by men who had the power to enforce them, were to prevent women from having control of any substantial sum of money.

Now sometimes a man (like James Leigh-Perrot) could leave his estate to his wife; she then had to be careful to avoid predators of all kinds, and often what happened was the mores of the period again enforced a kind of embedding of her into her family group. Most widows lived embedded within a family
(like Mrs Norris). The very rich might not (Lady Catherine de Bourgh) and the desperately impoverished (Mrs Smith), but then the reason the woman is desperately impoverished is she is living alone. Keeping them embedded felt natural and like the demand she wear mournig it also controlled her behavior and the money she might have inherited. Mrs Jane L-P was one of
the very rich so she could assert herself over any attempts to embed her
quickly.

All to prevent her from allowing the money to go from the family group.

The ruthless cruel institution of the suttee in India was an acting out of these mores. The widow was not wanted.

#157. To Charles Austen. Sunday 6 April 1817. Chawton. Her last letter to her younger brother. She thanks him for his “affectionate Letter,” and has to admit that she has “really been too unwell the last fortnight to write anything that was not absolutely necessary. I have been suffering from a Bilious attack, attended with a good deal of fever.” Then comes her acknowledgement, famous again, “A few days ago my complaint appeared removed, but I am ashamed to say that the shock of my Uncle’s Will brought on a relapse, & I was so ill on Friday & thought myself so likely to be worse that I could not but press for Cassandra’s returning with Frank after the Funeral last night, which she of course did, & either her return, or my having seen Mr. Curtis, or my Disorder’s chusing to go away, have made me better this morning. I live upstairs for the present & am coddled. I am the only one of the Legatees who has been so silly, but a weak Body must excuse weak Nerves. My mother has borne the forgetfulness of her extremely well.” Mr. Leigh-Perrot’s will left everything to his wife for her lifetime, and nothing to his sister Mrs. Austen, though James Austen and his heirs would have a reversion later, and Mrs. Austen’s younger children who should survive Mrs. L-P, a thousand pounds each. It was a strange will, and disappointed many hopes. There’s comment on several people’s illnesses, for several are ailing, not least of all Jane herself. Yet she is still able to make a joke about wanting a Hackney Chariot, and to be sure that it is a green one.